


So This Is Christmas

by enigmaticblue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, M/M, Mistletoe, Team Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 03:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The lovely thing about Christmas is that it’s compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together.” ~Garrison Keillor</p>
            </blockquote>





	So This Is Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically pure Christmas fluff with mistletoe and the team, and Bruce being a little bit of a troll--but for a very good cause. Many thanks to thomasina75 for prodding me along.

“So, here’s the thing,” Tony says as he enters Bruce’s lab. “There’s a Christmas party.”

 

Bruce doesn’t even glance up from his equations. “Not interested.”

 

“You haven’t even heard what I have to say!” Tony protests.

 

“I don’t do holidays, Tony,” Bruce replies, hitting save before he turns to Tony. “At all. Pretty much ever.”

 

Tony tosses a heavy piece of paper down on Bruce’s workbench. “It’s compulsory.”

 

Bruce reads the invitation. “It clearly says, ‘Tony Stark,’ which means it’s compulsory for _you_ , not me.”

 

Tony gives him a triumphant grin, which always, _always_ means trouble, and tosses down another invitation, this time with Bruce’s name across the top. “You are also invited, which means we should go together.”

 

Bruce scans his invitation a little more carefully than he had Tony’s. “This is a benefit dinner.”

 

“For Christmas, to commemorate the brave men and women who defended New York City from the aliens, yes,” Tony replies. “And since we’re the guests of honor, Fury says we have to go.”

 

Bruce picks up his invitation by one corner. “He didn’t tell me that _I_ had to go.”

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Check your email. It might be in the spam folder.”

 

Since Bruce has an SI email address, and he hasn’t touched the spam settings, he suspects he knows who’s responsible for such a missive not reaching him.

 

Sure enough, the memo from Fury is in his spam folder, marked URGENT. Bruce glances at Tony. “Urgent, huh?”

 

“We might have to work on the sensitivity of the settings,” Tony admits with a smirk that suggests he has no intention of doing so.

 

The email reads:

 

_To all relevant personnel:_

_If you’re receiving this email, you will also be receiving an invitation for a Christmas benefit dinner. Your attendance is mandatory. I don’t care if the world is ending,_ you will be there _. Black tie is required. NO EXCUSES_.

_Director Fury_

 

Bruce frowns. “Surely he doesn’t mean me. It’s too much of a risk.”

 

Tony taps Bruce’s invitation in response. “There’s your name, Big Guy. We both have to go, therefore I think we should go together. Fury’s always joking about us being attached at the hip, after all.”

 

Bruce pulls off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “I don’t have a tux.”

 

“That’s easily remedied,” Tony counters. “So, will you go with me?”

 

Bruce shrugs, figuring that going with Tony will at least make it marginally less boring, and Tony’s right about one thing—over the last few months, they’ve garnered the reputation of being together constantly.

 

“People are still going to talk about you not bringing a date,” Bruce points out.

 

“I’m still heartbroken over my breakup with Pepper, so I’m taking my best friend instead,” Tony counters.

 

Bruce smiles. “That even sounds sincere.”

 

“It’s completely sincere,” Tony says. “It’s either you or the flavor of the week, and I’d rather take you.”

 

That’s almost sweet coming from Tony. And really, Bruce knows they’re building towards _something_ , but he’s not sure what that something is going to be, or if it’s a good idea to go down that road.

 

“Well, I’m certainly not going to be taking a date,” Bruce replies, unable to resist the opportunity to tease Tony a bit. “So, I guess I’ll go with you.”

 

Tony mimes a shot to the heart. “Sound more enthusiastic, won’t you?”

 

“I’d love to go to the party with you,” Bruce says in his best imitation of a teenage girl, holding on to a patina of insincerity.

 

Tony smirks. “Just wait until I get you under the mistletoe, Banner.”

 

Bruce grins. “Challenge accepted.”

 

He has absolutely no intention of letting Tony catch him under the mistletoe, and he has a few ideas on how to make it as difficult as possible.

 

It might be the only entertainment Bruce has at the party.

 

~~~~~

 

The ballroom of the New Yorker is brightly lit, with Christmas trees in every corner and lights and garlands hung from the ceiling. New York’s elite are scattered around the room in black ties and tails, and Bruce tugs at his collar, feeling distinctly out of place.

 

“Relax, you look great,” Tony assures him, whispering into Bruce’s ear.

 

“I hate these sorts of things,” Bruce complains in an undertone. “I hate Christmas parties as a general rule, but I _really_ hate these sorts of events.”

 

“I never asked what you had against Christmas,” Tony says.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “Now isn’t the time.”

 

“Hey, guys,” Steve says awkwardly, sidling up next to Bruce. He’s in a tux, too, although it looks a little strained across the shoulders. He looks as uncomfortable as Bruce feels. “How about this, huh?”

 

“It’s something,” Bruce agrees, knowing what Steve means, even if he can’t articulate it.

 

Steve glances at him. “You guys didn’t bring a date?”

 

Bruce shrugs and glances at Tony.

 

“I wasn’t interested, and Bruce didn’t want to,” Tony replies. “So, we brought each other.”

 

Steve nods, as though the response doesn’t surprise him. “Oh, uh, that’s good.” He waves at a young woman who’s hovering just out of arm’s reach, wearing the same expression just about every woman wears when in proximity to Tony Stark. “This is Amy.”

 

“Bruce Banner,” Bruce says. “Nice to meet you. And I’m sure you know who Tony is.”

 

Tony puts on his most charming grin. “It’s a pleasure.”

 

Amy blushes, but she grabs Steve’s arm and holds on tight. “It’s so nice to meet you both.”

 

“Amy was on the scene,” Steve explains. “You know.”

 

“Glad you made it,” Tony says. “Be gentle with Steve. He has very little experience with women.”

 

Steve looks scandalized, and Bruce tries to hide his smile. Amy just pats Steve’s arm. “Oh, I think I’ve got him covered,” Amy assures Tony with a knowing smile.

 

Steve blushes, and Bruce smirks. “Good to know,” Tony says with a delighted grin. “Have fun, you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 

“Well, that leaves the field wide open,” Bruce murmurs, just loud enough for everyone to hear him.

 

Steve scratches his nose and looks away, and Amy giggles. Tony pokes Bruce hard in the side, but his smile says he’s not exactly put out.

 

“Go find some mistletoe,” Tony orders. “And let us know where it is. I have plans.”

 

Amy drags Steve off to the dance floor, and Bruce and Tony start making the rounds. Tony knows far more people there than Bruce does, and every time, Tony introduces Bruce with a possessive air that Bruce doesn’t protest.

 

He’s going to have to keep an eye out for mistletoe, but so far the coast is clear.

 

There’s a string quartet playing Christmas carols and classical music, and a small section of dance floor for those so inclined. “We could dance,” Tony suggests.

 

Bruce rolls his eyes. “ _You_ can. I absolutely cannot dance.”

 

“See, I don’t believe that,” Tony replies. “I think you’re holding out on me.”

 

“When I step on your toes a few times, you’ll think differently,” Bruce replies. “So, no. I like your toes where they are.”

 

Tony gives him an incredulous look. “You’re exaggerating.”

 

“I’m really not,” Bruce insists. “I nearly broke Betty’s toes before the Other Guy. I have no idea what the damage would be now.”

 

Tony grimaces. “Fair enough. Come on, there’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

 

Bruce allows Tony to lead the way, his hand around Bruce’s upper arm, and that’s when Bruce spots the mistletoe near the bar. He’s fairly certain that’s Tony’s goal, and not some unnamed person. Bruce casts around for some way to distract him and spots Clint and Natasha nearby.

 

“Hey, look, there’s Clint and Natasha,” Bruce says, pulling free of Tony’s grasp and changing course slightly.

 

“I know what you’re doing,” Tony mutters.

 

Bruce smirks over his shoulder but doesn’t dignify that comment with a reply. “Hi, guys.”

 

“Doc,” Clint greets him. “Nice to see you when you’re looking a little less green.”

 

Bruce smiles. “Same here.”

 

“Dr. Banner,” Natasha says courteously. “How are you?”

 

“Good,” Bruce replies. “I’m going to get a drink. Tony?”

 

“I’ll get it,” Tony says. “Can I get you guys anything?”

 

“I’ll take another beer,” Clint says, holding up an empty glass.

 

Natasha takes Clint’s empty glass in exchange for her half-full one. “I think I’ll go powder my nose.”

 

Bruce watches them go and eyes the mistletoe.

 

“You got someone you want to catch underneath?” Clint asks with a smirk.

 

Bruce shakes his head. “No, I’m planning how to avoid it. Tony and I have a bet.”

 

“You bet he couldn’t get you underneath?” Clint asks.

 

“That he couldn’t kiss me,” Bruce explains.

 

Clint looks positively gleeful. “Do you want some help?”

 

“Are you offering?”

 

Clint chuckles. “Let’s just say that I know how much Natasha hates that sort of thing, and I owe her.”

 

Bruce perks up at that. “Oh?”

 

“There was an embarrassing situation during our last joint mission,” Clint replies evasively. “She took pictures. Anyway, you get Stark over there, and I’ll handle Tasha.”

 

Tony turns up with their drinks then, and Bruce sips his wine, already calculating how to get Tony under the mistletoe without getting caught himself.

 

“Oh, hell,” Tony says suddenly.

 

Bruce looks around for the threat. “What’s wrong?”

 

“General Kissler is here,” Tony says, sounding highly disgruntled, his eyes on a gray haired man in an Army dress uniform, with a chest full of medals. “He’s still pissed off that I won’t make weapons for him, and he hasn’t forgiven me for that last mission in Florida.”

 

“The one where you flew in and completely showed him up? Looks like he’s heading our way,” Bruce observes mildly. “Good luck with that.”

 

Natasha appears next to Clint, retrieving her drink from his hand. “What seems to be the problem?”

 

“Do you want to dance?” Tony asks her.

 

Natasha narrows her eyes. “Why?”

 

“Because I would owe you a favor,” Tony replies quickly. “And because I doubt you want to have a long conversation with General Kissler either.”

 

Natasha grimaces. “No, I don’t.” She gives Tony a fierce look. “Do not get fresh.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tony replies.

 

Bruce watches as Tony leads Natasha onto the dance floor, and he leans back against the bar. “Well, that’s phase one done,” Clint observes. “How badly do you think Tony wants to win the bet?”

 

“Pretty badly,” Bruce replies, keeping an eye on Kissler, who has turned aside to eye the dance floor, his expression calculating. Bruce suspects that he’s not going to be put off so easily. Bruce hadn’t been there—he’d been on a humanitarian mission in Darfur at the time—but he’d heard about it afterward from Tony. From what he understands, there had been an attack by a bunch of super-powered goons, and Kissler and Fury had argued over who had jurisdiction.

 

Tony had swooped in and taken care of the threat while Natasha distracted Kissler, thus securing the glory for SHIELD and the Avengers, and ensuring that their team would be one called in for similar emergencies in the future.

 

Kissler hadn’t been pleased, to say the least.

 

“Looks like Coulson is going to run interference,” Clint murmurs, his smile indicating that he’s enjoying the show as much as Bruce is.

 

Sure enough, Coulson sidles up next to Kissler and says something, although Bruce has no idea what it might be. Whatever it is, Kissler turns and follows Coulson out of the ballroom.

 

“Wonder what he said,” Bruce says.

 

“Knowing Phil, he probably has some dirt on the guy,” Clint replies. “He knows just how to push.” Another moment goes by, and Clint asks, “So, you don’t mind?”

 

“Mind what?” Bruce asks.

 

Clint jerks his chin in the direction of the dance floor. “Tasha dancing with your boyfriend.”

 

“He’s not really my boyfriend,” Bruce protests. “And while we're on the topic, I could ask you the same question.”

 

Clint grins. “I know how she feels about Stark. Besides, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

 

Bruce is spared from responding when he hears, “My friends! There you are!”

 

Bruce would recognize Thor’s booming voice anywhere, and sure enough, the crowd makes way for him as he heads their way, improbably wearing a tux, with a very pretty woman in a red dress hanging on his arm. “It is good to see you,” Thor says with booming sincerity.

 

“You too,” Bruce replies. “How are you?”

 

“I am well!” Thor says. “I was pleased to receive Fury’s invitation, for I have been curious about your winter feast. I’ve heard much about it.”

 

The woman smiles and explains, “He’s been watching a lot of made-for-TV movies. I’m Jane Foster, by the way.”

 

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Clint replies, holding out a hand. “Clint Barton.”

 

“Bruce Banner,” Bruce says in turn.

 

Jane smiles. “Dr. Bruce Banner? You wrote that article on relativistic heavy-ion collisions.”

 

Tony had managed to get under Bruce’s defenses with just such a strategy. One mention of a paper he’d written a lifetime ago, and Bruce felt like someone was actually seeing _him_ for the first time, especially since Tony had immediately followed up by complimenting him on the Other Guy.

 

“I didn’t think anybody had read that one, other than Tony,” Bruce admits.

 

Clint makes a choking sound, and Bruce ignores him. He’s well aware of the jokes surrounding his relationship with Tony. It’s one of the reasons he’s avoiding the mistletoe; there’s no need to add fuel to the fire.

 

“No, it was fascinating,” Jane says, and then seems to check herself. “And I promised not to talk shop tonight, but maybe some other time?”

 

“Call the Tower and ask for me,” Bruce replies. “I’ll let them know to put you through, and we can set something up.”

 

Clint straightens. “Okay, now’s the time for me to cut in. Doc, you’re in charge of Tony. I’ll get Natasha over there.”

 

“What is this?” Thor asks. “Is there trouble?”

 

“No, it’s just some harmless fun,” Bruce assures Thor. “I promise. I’ll be right back.”

 

The best way to get Tony under the mistletoe is to let him believe that’s where _Bruce_ is going to be, so he slips off to the bathroom, and then pulls out his Stark phone when he’s finished. It’s not hard to pretend to be so absorbed by what’s on the screen that he’s not paying attention to his surroundings; it’s happened before.

 

Bruce meanders close to the mistletoe, but avoids standing underneath it as he pretends to send a text message. In his peripheral vision, he can just see Tony making a beeline for him, the beginnings of a triumphant grin on his face, and approaching from his flank, there’s Clint and Natasha.

 

Bruce pretends to keep his attention on his phone, not looking up, and he’s not sure whether it’s just coincidence or divine timing, but a young woman rushes up to Tony. “Mr. Stark, can I get your autograph?” she gushes, holding out a cocktail napkin and a pen. “Please?”

 

Tony takes a couple of steps back—Bruce knows how much he hates being handed things, and Clint pushes Natasha forward, just as Bruce takes a step back.

 

Which means that Tony and Natasha are standing under the mistletoe together.

 

Natasha looks absolutely murderous, but Clint just smirks at her. “Bogota,” he says.

 

Natasha’s expression softens slightly, and she shrugs, then gives Tony a look that is equal parts challenge and warning.

 

Tony meets Bruce’s eyes, and his look promises retribution. “I’m not one to pass up kissing a beautiful woman under the mistletoe,” he says, and presses a chaste kiss to Natasha’s cheek.

 

He quickly moves away, and heads towards Bruce. “You put them up to this,” Tony whispers in his ear, leaning in close with a hand on Bruce’s waist.

 

“Not at all,” Bruce says, shading the truth just slightly. “And you’re the one who walked right underneath it.”

 

Tony’s eyes narrow. “This isn’t over.”

 

“Was this your jest?” Thor asks as he approaches.

 

Bruce is thankful for the distraction. “Yeah, it’s mistletoe,” he explains, and seizes on the chance for a distraction. “Tony, this is Dr. Jane Foster. She’s the one working on the Einstein-Rosen bridge.”

 

Tony is diverted, and he inquires—not subtly—about her current employment, because Tony’s always in the business of hiring new talent. Jane gives the same excuse of promising not to talk shop, and Tony asks, “So, Thor, how long are you in town?”

 

“As long as I can,” Thor replies, sounding a little more subdued. “I would stay forever, if only I could.”

 

Tony claps Thor on the shoulder. “Let me get you a drink. Jane, you want anything?”

 

“A glass of wine would be good,” she replies. “Red.” Jane turns to Natasha, whose mouth curls in amusement. “Thor has only told me a little, but it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Likewise,” Natasha replies. “I take it you’re still in New Mexico.”

 

Bruce half-listens as they make small talk, watching the crowd. There are plenty of socialites and high rollers present. Bruce recognizes a lot of local politicians, probably there to garner votes and public support, but he’s also watching for threats, like Kissler, or another general who thinks tonight’s a good time to settle old scores.

 

So, he’s not exactly paying attention to what Tony’s up to when Thor settles a heavy arm around his shoulders and propels him towards the mistletoe.

 

“Wait, what—” Bruce protests.

 

“Tony has explained the nature of this jest,” Thor says sincerely.

 

Bruce could probably get away if he really fought, but he has no desire to cause a scene, so he lets Thor propel him under the mistletoe. “I’m not sure I understand.”

 

“To kiss beneath the mistletoe is to put aside old grievances, and to be at peace,” Thor replies. “It is the same on Asgard.”

 

Bruce glances at Tony, who’s smirking in clear challenge. Bruce decides to call his bluff, and replies, “That’s one purpose of the mistletoe,” before he pulls Thor’s head down for a quick, but very sincere, kiss on the lips.

 

Thor smiles warmly as Bruce takes a step back. “And what is the other purpose for the mistletoe, Doctor?”

 

“Ask your girlfriend,” Bruce advises. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to provide a demonstration.”

 

Tony’s expression is grudgingly respectful, and Clint looks absolutely gleeful. “You’re a troll,” Tony accuses. “A well-disguised troll, but a troll, all the same.”

 

Bruce snickers. “Thank you.”

 

Tony’s expression turns calculating. “What do you think it would take to get Steve and his girlfriend under the mistletoe?”

 

Natasha’s smile widens. “If we don’t give him a push, he may never make a move.”

 

Clint grins. “Operation Get Cap Laid is now in effect.”

 

There’s laughter and a few muted cheers from around them, and Bruce glances over his shoulder to see Thor dipping Jane back, kissing her deeply.

 

“Looks like Thor figured out the other use for mistletoe,” Tony says.

 

“Let’s see if we can get Cap on the same page,” Clint says. “Bruce, you’re up.”

 

Bruce frowns. “Why me?”

 

“Because you don’t look like a troll, and Steve likes you,” Clint replies.

 

“He has a point,” Tony observes.

 

Bruce isn’t sure whether Tony’s sincere, or whether he’s just throwing Bruce to the wolves, but he’s willing to do his part.

 

Knowing Steve, though, he’s not the one Bruce needs to work on. “I think we need to get his date on board first,” Bruce says.

 

Tony grins. “I like the way you think.”

 

“I’ll take care of Captain Rogers,” Natasha says. “Dr. Banner, you’re in charge of his date.”

 

“Why me?” Bruce repeats.

 

Natasha smiles. “Because she won’t think you’re hitting on her.”

 

Bruce has to agree; Tony’s reputation as a womanizer is well known, and Clint’s not much older than Amy, but Bruce is probably old enough to be her father.

 

He suddenly feels ancient.

 

“Right,” Bruce says, stationing himself at the edge of the dance floor where he’ll be sure to see her once Natasha cuts in.

 

As far as he can tell, Steve’s been dancing with Amy for the last couple of hours, not even stopping when Thor had arrived, which bodes well for the mistletoe maneuver.

 

Bruce glances back at that troublesome little decoration, and it seems that Thor and Jane have broken the ice. A partygoer pulls a laughing girl under the mistletoe and plants a kiss on her lips, and then one woman pulls another underneath, and they kiss tenderly.

 

When he turns back to the dance floor, Amy is walking towards Bruce, looking a little uncertain.

 

“Did Steve leave you in the lurch?” he asks, as though he has no idea what’s going on.

 

Amy nods. “Agent Romanoff said she needed to talk to him.”

 

“Let me get you a drink,” Bruce offers. “You’re probably thirsty.”

 

She gives him a tentative smile. “That would be great. Thank you.”

 

Bruce orders her a drink and checks the location of the others. Tony and Clint seem to have made themselves scarce, and it appears as though Jane is trying to teach Thor how to dance.

 

“You know,” he begins. “Steve can be a little shy.”

 

She blushes a bit and laughs. “I’ve noticed.”

 

“But he usually just needs a nudge in the right direction,” Bruce continues with a significant look towards the mistletoe.

 

Amy half-turns to look in that direction, and her eyes widen. “Do you really think so?”

 

“Give him a reason,” Bruce encourages.

 

Amy frowns. “Why are you doing this?”

 

“Steve’s a good man, and a good friend,” Bruce replies. “He deserves a chance at happiness, even if he does need a push in the right direction sometimes.”

 

His words echo strangely in his ears, and Bruce feels as though he should probably take his own advice.

 

But not in the middle of a party.

 

“Thank you,” Amy says, touching Bruce’s arm lightly. “You’re a good friend.”

 

Bruce wishes that were true, but he accepts the compliment graciously. “Thanks. Looks like Steve is heading this way. If I were you, I wouldn’t give him any time to protest.”

 

Amy downs the rest of her drink and gives a resolute nod. “Right.”

 

Bruce grins as Amy goes to meet Steve, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the mistletoe. Steve makes a token protest, but he allows Amy to lead him under the mistletoe, and then he bends down to kiss her, one hand cupping her face.

 

“That was a job well done,” Tony says as he materializes next to Bruce.

 

Steve is still kissing Amy, and she’s clutching his shoulders, one foot off the floor. “I’d say so,” Bruce agrees.

 

“Come home with me,” Tony urges quietly.

 

As always, Tony’s sincerity undoes Bruce, and he’s not inclined to say no anyway. “I think we’ve stayed here long enough,” Bruce replies. “So, yeah, let’s go home.”

 

~~~~~

 

They’re in the limo, heading back to the Tower, when Tony asks, “So, why don’t you like Christmas?”

 

Trust Tony to ask when Bruce can’t retreat. “Because most of the time Christmas was just another reminder that I was alone,” he admits, looking out the window, not wanting to see the pity on Tony’s face. “And even when I wasn’t alone, it was a reminder of what I didn’t have.”

 

He’s unwilling to say more right now, but he knows Tony’s read his entire file, and he can probably fill in the blanks for himself.

 

“Did tonight change anything?” Tony asks, reminding Bruce that Tony Stark often sees far more than people give him credit for.

 

And Bruce has to admit that tonight _had_ made a difference; he knows he’s not alone, for one thing.

 

He meets Tony’s eyes, and sees a hint of vulnerability there. “Yeah, it did,” he says, and it feels like a promise, and Tony nods decisively.

 

It’s no surprise when they arrive at the Tower and Tony asks, “Do you want a drink?”

 

Bruce doesn’t want the evening to end just yet, although he doesn’t want another drink. Still, he knows that Tony will finish anything he doesn’t, so he says, “Sure.”

 

Tony leads him to the fully stocked bar in the Penthouse and pulls out a couple of highball glasses and pours two fingers of scotch in each. “Look up,” he advises, passing Bruce his glass.

 

Bruce suspects he knows what he’ll find when he does, and he’s not disappointed, although the mistletoe is a hologram. “Clever,” he admits.

 

“You can always step out from under it,” Tony says, setting his glass on the bar.

 

Bruce smiles. “What if I don’t want to?”

 

Tony grins, his expression warm and bright. “Then I would say I’m getting everything I want for Christmas.”

 

Bruce welcomes Tony’s lips on his, tentative at first, and then more demanding, and Tony’s hand comes up to tangle in Bruce’s hair.

 

Tony pulls back slightly. “Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Bruce confirms, pulling him back in for another kiss. Bruce pushes Tony’s jacket off his shoulders and hears it drop onto the floor, and then he tugs Tony’s bowtie loose.

Tony returns the favor and steers them towards the couch.

 

They tumble down onto the cushions, their limbs tangled, their teeth clashing briefly. Tony pulls Bruce on top of him, and they shift around, finding a comfortable position, and Tony’s hips buck, his pelvis pressing against Bruce’s, providing welcome friction.

 

Tony wrestles with the buttons on Bruce’s shirt, and they nearly fall off the couch, causing both of them to laugh, clutching at each other.

 

“Bedroom?” Bruce suggests.

 

“Definitely,” Tony replies, and then he pauses, running a hand through Bruce’s hair. “Just so you know, this isn’t a one night thing.”

 

Bruce smiles. “That’s good, because if you thought it was, I might get angry.”

 

Tony grins suddenly. “You know I like the Other Guy, too. But still.”

 

“Still,” Bruce agrees. “And yes. I wouldn’t have started this if I thought otherwise.

 

Tony frowns. “Technically, I was the one who started it.”

 

Bruce laughs, because he can see where the next however many years of his life are heading, and for the first time in a long time, he likes the view. “Shut up and kiss me, Tony.”

 

And Tony does.


End file.
